


hollywood is no mount olympus

by nantes (titians)



Category: Actor RPF, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:31:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16177007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titians/pseuds/nantes
Summary: Being a modern god isn't always everything it's cracked up to be. But that may be because some gods take a while to work out who the others are now.originally posted on lj: september 2011.





	hollywood is no mount olympus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pr_scatterbrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_scatterbrain/gifts).



> what up???? is it 2011 again or am i just editing something i posted on lj back in '11 because the wonderful [pr-scatterbrain](http://pr-scatterbrain.tumblr.com) reminded me i wrote it and i wanted to archive it here too? _you tell me!_

> " _For famous men have the whole earth as their memorial._ "
> 
> **P E R I C L E S**

 

 

 

He puts it down to the fact they never shared a scene. But somewhere, in the middle of their lunches together, read-throughs of the script and the odd times he would have finished filming for the day and decide to watch the others filming their scenes, Armie should have realised.

He figures it out at the premiere.

Before they can go into the theatre, the cast arrange themselves in a line along the red carpet and poses for the photographers and international journalist. Armie ends up next to Andrew, who is a great believer of hugging in close to the people being photographed alongside him. Jesse wraps an arm around the brunette's waist, leaving his shoulders free for Armie.

Accidentally brushing his thumb against the exposed skin above Andrew's collar, Armie feels a flicker of power. It sparks from Andrew's skin and fizzles through Armie's fingertip.

As they separate, Andrew catches his eyes with a knowing smile. Armie returns it, but drops his gaze to his shoes. Fincher sweeps in behind him and motions them all towards the door, the press pack's cameras snapping away at the scene.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
"It's taken you a while," Andrew says, bottle of beer in his hand. Armie has a pint glass of water in his hands -- after four thousand years, he's gotten a little bored of all the revelry. And hangovers. "I didn't believe it was you to begin with. You're so clean cut."

Armie mutters, "Thanks," which Andrew ( _Hermes_ ) quickly brushes off. He touches the cuff of Armie's white shirt and leans into him further.

"Don't worry," he whispers, "I won't tell Dad where you've been hiding all this time." He pulls back with a sly grin -- Armie can't believe he didn't notice sooner, mischief beams off of every part of him -- and takes a drink from his beer.

Jesse takes a seat at the table and Andrew slides easily into conversation with him.

If he's honest, Armie would have to admit that he hasn't thought about their shared father in centuries. He wonders, for a moment, while Andrew and Jesse share a joke, if he's passed him on the street or worked with him previously. In his head, he goes through all of the great actors, knowing Zeus would enjoy the limelight, but none of them work for him.

Anthony Hopkins would _almost_ be perfect, but he can't imagine his father allowing himself to be reincarnated in Wales. (And then play Odin.)

"You ok?" Jesse asks, snapping his co-star back to reality. Armie nods, lamely. "You just looked a little lost there."

He rattles off, "Yeah, yeah." Then repeats it, "Yeah. I was thinking."

The sound echoes around the neck of his bottle as Andrew laughs. Jesse goes with it, laughing too, although the joke is far beyond him. Armie rolls his eyes and let them have it.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
The elevator opens with a ping and the two step in. "Did you seriously think you were alone in the world?" Andrew asks, and Armie rolls his eyes, sighing heavily through his open mouth. "Do _not_ make faces at me, Dionysus." Armie frowns at the sound of his real name.

"I didn't really think about it," he admits, returning to Andrew's first statement. Unlike his half-brother, he doesn't retaliate with the use of his real name, even though it suits him better than 'Andrew'. "I just came back."

Andrew seems unconvinced, humming loudly. They move from floor six to seven, the lights illuminating one number and then the next above the door.

"Where's Dad then?" Armie asks.

Andrew replies, "He's currently Henry Cavill." He watches Armie's face before smiling, "You look confused."

"That's very young. For Dad."

"I think that's why he is doing it," Andrew suggests. "He got bored of constantly being seen as the old man with a big beard, swirling clouds over his head. He went for a younger model this time."

Armie asks, "And Hera?"

"Gemma Arterton."

That one actually makes sense. Her face appeared in a magazine Armie was flipping through one day, a makeup advert or perhaps a fashion editorial, and he remembers thinking to himself how classically beautiful she was, like something from an ancient mosaic. He nods. "She looks good."

Matter of factly, Andrew replies, "They aren't speaking to each other at the moment."  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
The next morning, they go to the press junket together. Andrew nudges him in the back, playfully, as he takes his seat and Armie throws a smile over his shoulder in reply. The cameras in front of them go flash-flash-flash and on the other side of Andrew, Jesse takes his seat and greets them with a cheery, "Good morning."

Andrew beams and Armie hopes his eyebrows convey an equally enthusiastic 'hello' while the lower half of his face is blocked out by a coffee cup.

The questions are mainly for their director, Jesse and Andrew. Unsurprisingly.

Armie googles 'Gemma Arterton' on his Blackberry, hiding the light from the screen underneath the edge of the table. The press miss it, but Andrew catches him and when Armie looks up, he meets his half-brother's brown eyes. Pouring himself a glass of water to give himself an excuse to lean in closer to him, Armie takes the opportunity to ask, "Is she sitting next to Thor?"

Andrew grins and nods. Armie feels his own mouth break into a smile, strangely proud of himself for recognising a member of another pantheon; despite missing out on his own for so long. 

He replies, "She swapped one god of thunder for another, but they're doing a great job of hiding it from the press."

"Any particular reason Thor chose to be Australian this time around?"

Andrew breaks into a laugh, throwing his head back and letting the sound take over the air in front of him. Armie laughs with him, while everyone else at the table turns to look at them both. "Anything you would like to share?" Josh asks from Armie's right. He shakes his head with a grin.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
Over lunch, Armie asks, "Why Thor?"

"He goes by Chris Hemsworth now," Andrew amends. "And it pisses off Dad, I suppose." Armie nods. "It came as a shock to everyone when we found out; Artemis whooped, apparently. I wasn't there."

"Who is she now?"

It takes Andrew a moment. He places his fork down on the edge of his plate and licks at something in the corner of his mouth. "Juno Temple."

"So, we're all famous."

Andrew shakes his head, "No." He pauses and takes a quick drink from his soda. "Some of us are plain old regular humans, working a nine-to-five job, going to university and hanging out with our friends. But the ones you'd expect, well, they're all in limelight. And Aphrodite's a guy in this age -- she felt like a change."

Armie nods.

"It suits him, the god of love and all that."

"What about Apollo?" Armie throws back at the brunette, hoping it appears somewhat random. Andrew rolls his eyes a full 360 degrees before settling them once more on Armie. "Who is the sun god these days? I remember you two being close."

Breathing in through his nose, Andrew replies, "Garrett Hedlund."

Armie's mouth form an 'o' shape as he lifts his cup of tea away from his mouth. "He seems nice."

Underneath the table, Andrew's foot collides with his shin.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
Armie isn't going to the European premiere. To make up for this fact, he bombards Andrew with questions on their last afternoon together. Now that he has 're-awoken' the god within himself, he keeps spotting gods, incredibly obvious gods, everywhere.

"Did any of us become Disney stars?"

It's a legitimate question, at least, Armie feels it is. Disney stars are amongst the most talked about and photographed stars on the planet, especially during that awkward 'post-Disney, pre-real world' transition; if he knows the Gods, their narcissism would have loved all the attention.

Andrew shrugs in return.

"One," he replies, shortly. "Only one of us did. A few Egyptian gods were for a time, but as far as I know, no Norse ones." He pauses and covers his mouth with his fingers. "Wait, I suppose Hades sort of counts, since Disney owns the rights to him, but a fully-fledged Disney kid, there's only been one."

Armie asks, "Who?"

Andrew face cracks into a smirk which only makes his half-brother frown. "I'll leave you work that one out."  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
Three weeks later and he see Gemma on the red carpet outside some luncheon hosted by the Armani Foundation for Fashion Week. She's wearing beige and as she throws her head back with a laugh, her face cutting a fine silhouette against the thicket of reporters and camera flash bulbs in front of her. She leans into one of the microphones and touches the arm of another reporter, smiling sweetly with her eyes down before moving onto the next set of questions further along the line.

Inside, Armie walks up behind her at the bar and says, "Where's Thor?"

Gemma turns around like she's been slapped, her dark eyes cutting through Armie in front of her. "His name is Chris," she quips, leaning into him to make sure no one else hears them. Armie nods. "Did your father send you?"

He laughs. "Until last month, I was unaware who Zeus had become."

The smile suits Gemma's face. Armie can't remember ever seeing her smile so back on Olympus. He can't help but smile as well. "Poor little lost god," she replies, a laugh on her lips. "Haven't you been working with Herm- _Andrew_ this last year?" She manages to catches herself, but enough gets said.

Armie shrugs. "All the years of wine, my brain isn't at its peak."

"I like your new face," she remarks. He takes it as a compliment.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
Before they leave for the evening, Armie manages to get Gemma to jot her number down on a napkin. He hopes they weren't caught by any cameras, but he has dealt with worse in the past than a rumour about him dating his father's wife. A lot worse, in fact.

He texts Andrew to tell him.

The text he receives in reply reads: _that's one thing you have dad doesn't._

It really isn't something he should be triumphant about, but this is the 21st century; the rules have changed. Hera, the goddess of marriage, is having an affair for one thing.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
Armie wakes up and the pillow under his face is too warm. He groans, sticking an arm out over his head to flip it over, but the effort of lifting his neck has him changing his mind and the pillow stays where it is. Outside his window, a seabird calls out to another one, loud and obnoxious. A small voice in his head tells him to do something about it, get it with his 'god powers', it tells him, so Americanised and lazy.

But Armie doesn't feel like bringing the wrath of Garrett, god of birds and winged creatures, down upon his head so early in the morning.

It is a Tuesday and as he rises out of bed, stretching his arms out over his head, the bones in Armie's back click back into place. He hums with the stretch before deciding to go for a jog.  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
It definitely isn't a godly act, jogging along the boardwalk in shorts -- which look ridiculously short on Armie's long legs -- while birds argue over the trash falling out from uncollected bins, placed every two hundred metres or so. The sand doesn't look the cleanest, meaning Armie stays on the cement. He wonders if Pan, in whatever form he currently resides in, has seen this place and wept.

Garrett has admitted in previous interviews that Los Angeles does nothing for him, preferring to live somewhere quieter, less suburban and wholly cleaner feeling.

Once a god of nature, always a god of nature, Armie notes to himself as he stops. He uncaps his bottle of water and takes a moment to breathe. Footsteps approach from behind him, moving quickly.

"Morning," the voice behind him says. Armie almost spits up on the man as he turns around. Despite the pink tint to his cheeks from his run, Zac Efron's hair is immaculate. "I don't usually meet other people at this hour of the morning."

Armie nods, then just about remembers to swallow, before putting the cap back securely on his bottle and sticking out his hand for Zac. "Armie Hammer," he introduces. Zac accepts it, parroting his own name in return. Just as it happened with Andrew, a spark of power travels from one to the next and Armie's mouth flops open like a dead fish.

"We had wondered why you'd been hiding all this time," Zac grins, wrinkles forming around his eyes with it. "Good to see you."

"You too," he stammers. "You look- you look great. What made you want to?"

Zac shrugs, "Felt like I needed a change -- Hera got herself a new god of thunder and I got a new body."

"It suits you," Armie tells him, echoing his sentiment about Gemma a few weeks back.

Zac nods, biting his lip. "Do you want to get some breakfast? I haven't seen you in a long time. I like your new face."  
  
  
  
  
+  
  
  
  
  
_i found the disney star. and i think i'm on a date with him._

Andrew chuckles at the message. To his left, Garrett babbles something about taking a holiday together, "Maybe somewhere like Maui -- have we done Maui together yet?"

The brunette shouts down the corridor, as the footsteps begin to sound further and further away, "No, we haven't done Maui together yet. Remember that I burn easily." And his fingers type out, _good job. it's only taken you a lifetime._

_aphrodite looks really good!_


End file.
